How People Talk
by RollerBrains
Summary: "Depression? More like a ticket to reality." Annabeth's having a hard time being honest, so she just attempts to do everything at once; stay in her position as queen of Maynard High, be the perfect heiress for her father's billion dollar enterprise, and hide her not-so-secret crush on Percy Jackson, a tactless but lovable boy with problems of his own. AU, Percabeth.
1. Let's Begin With A Prologue

**Hey guys! **

**This is my first ever fanfiction. It just came up when I was listening to a remix of Lorde's _Tennis Court. _If you know the lyrics, you'll see where I'm getting at with the description. Hope you like it!**

**Enjoy!**

**- M**

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><p><em>Silence<em>.

That was all she wanted. Something so simple, yet so difficult to obtain. Of course, at this early hour of seven-oh-five, that was all she had. Her eyes, the colour of clouds heavy with tears, drilled holes into the surface of the pale wooden desk. Her jean clad legs were crossed and her long fingers splayed across her lap. She concentrated on keeping her sleep deprived eyelids from closing as she waited for the mindless teenage murmur to begin around her.

A middle aged woman sat, hunched, at the front of the class, looking over the list of names neatly printed on the paper in front of her, analysing each and every one as if she hadn't called on them repeatedly.

'Annabeth?'

Well at least she remembered _her_ name.

_Then again, who didn't?_

Annabeth looked up from the table drowsily and attempted a smile.

'Yes, Miss Galivan?'

The advisory teacher trembled, as if she was afraid of the teen. Then again, somehow, those hollow eyes and perfect curls and smooth cheekbones were more intimidating than any street punk she'd ever seen. The woman shook her head and sucked in a breath.

'May I ask why you always come to school so early?'

Oh. A _conversation_.

'My parents have _work_. They drop me off early to get there,' she answered simply.

'Oh, really?' Miss Galivan continued. 'Where do they work?'

Too bad. She wasn't in the mood for this.

'You know exactly where, Miss Galivan.'

The woman immediately shut her mouth and looked back down to the paper. Silence covered them like a blanket until precisely twenty-two minutes later, when the rest of the students began to make way into the bland looking halls of the school. Just as she wanted.

And that is how all conversations with Annabeth Chase went.

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><p>Percy Jackson didn't particularly care as to what others thought of him.<p>

His jeans didn't sag and his hoodie wasn't branded and his shoes weren't new but he was okay with that. His hair was a rat's nest and that didn't bother him. His awfully pasty skin did nothing to his self esteem, and he did some stupid things but hey, it's high school.

A few years from now, nobody would even remember who he was.

_And that's the problem_, Percy thought, as he attempted to walk the cold stone path to school without stepping on any cracks. Give it a few years' time, and he'll be less than nothing to them.

But they sure tried to make him remember them.

It wasn't that their words really hurt him. It was more about the fact that everybody believed them. It was annoying, having to watch everybody believe in the lies that a few made up. But that was how this school worked.

Maynard High, located in southern San Francisco, was a school for the elite. Located impossibly close to Silicon Valley, the school was pretty much a training ground for future leaders.

Most of which, for some reason, we're strangely good looking and aggravatingly big headed.

These were the children of Google managers, Apple software designers, programmers and innovators, mathematicians and scientists.

His sugar sweet mother, who worked as a cook in Google, hoped that dropping him into this hellhole she called a school would "open his mind to the world".

Instead, he learned just how horrible future leaders are as children.

So even though one day nobody would remember him, he would be sure that their faces would bring him hell for the rest of his minimum-waged little life.

The bell rang and Percy, despite knowing that he's late, didn't even flinch.

'This is high school,' he repeated to himself. He had to make sure that his reputation, as bad as it was now, didn't change for better or worse.

Let them think what they want to think.


	2. Beauty Queen

**Hey guys! **

**Firstly, I'd like to thank all of those who read, followed, favourited and reviewed this story so far, even though the only had I had uploaded was a short, 600 word prologue. **

**I want everybody to know that the chapter names are based off of some of my favourite songs. This chapter's song is _Beauty Queen_ by Foxes.**

**Enjoy! **

**- M**

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><p>Annabeth was pretty much the queen of the school.<p>

She was the High School Student Body President, despite only being in her junior year. She was the current valedictorian of her year, and people were sure that she would continue to be so in her senior year. She was tall, with the figure of a supermodel, and her outfits were crisp and clean and fitted her perfectly in all the right places. Her name was on the tip of everyone's tongue and her blinding smile could cause grown men to go weak in the knees.

She was born to rule.

Despite her pretty much perfect demeanour, she fucking _hated_ high school.

Annabeth hated the way people would talk about those low on the high school food chain. Vicious rumours and lies spread throughout the school like a flood. This flood of course only affected those who couldn't afford to get out of it. Children of teachers, cleaners, uneducated "entrepreneurs" who tried to pass off as something special.

Her mother used to say that it's not about where you're born, it's about what you do with your life. But face it. If you were born poor, chances are, it's going to be difficult to get out of where you are. Those born with misfortune stay with it their whole lives.

So it was just her luck that she was born into power and wealth and just had to be diagnosed with fucking _depression._

Her father thought that the way she was was caused by her mother, which Annabeth mentally denied but agreeably shrugged when he said it. She didn't want him to be worried. He didn't have time to be worried. His billion dollar enterprise was calling him every seven seconds, and she wasn't interested in less-than-seven-second conversations. So she took her antidepressants (to no avail) and was the same happy little fake she always was to protect both her father's sanity and his business.

Depression? More like a ticket to reality.

She took out her Chemistry textbook and shut her locker, turning to smile at Drew, her supposed best friend, who was touching up her eyeliner for the umpteenth time today. Drew was the cheerleading squad captain, and, if Annabeth might add, a complete whore by modern day standards. In addition to her fishnet leggings and bralets, she had a small pouty mouth which never managed to spout a compliment (towards anyone but Annabeth, of course), and dark, almond shaped eyes which would stare at you blankly at pretty much all times (whether it was due to the massive effort she put into not giving a shit or because she actually had no idea what you were saying, Annabeth didn't know).

As they shared petty gossip on the way to their next class, Annabeth wondered once again as to why she was friends with such a girl. For one, it was nice to have a gorgeous friend who wore less clothes than her dog since it took the attention away from her. It was also nice to have a friend who was a total bitch, since it made Annabeth feel as though she was a lovely human being (regardless of the fact that no, she wasn't).

The best thing, Annabeth decided, is that Drew knew every little bit of gossip there was in the school as soon as it came out. This way, Annabeth knew exactly when, where and why someone would try to soil her name, and she would be able to shut them down just in time to save herself.

Her biggest fear was the words of others. She couldn't let her life be ruined by some jealous little _bitch._

So she made sure that no matter what she did, Drew was on her side. And Drew herself knew, that without Annabeth, she wouldn't be able to get away with even half of what she did now (starting with the bralets).

And so a wonderfully dysfunctional yet extremely functional friendship bloomed.

Annabeth slowed down her pace as she got near the Chemistry classroom, kissing Drew on the cheek twice out of routine ('mwah, mwah!') and shooting her a pleasant 'see ya, babes!' before heading towards her seat. There were still a couple of minutes before the class started, but majority of the class was present and bustling with teenage hormones and coffee driven energy. A scrawny boy in a faded navy blue hoodie stood in front of the class and attempted to act like their chemistry teacher, Mrs. Van As. He held his nose up high in the air and spoke in a disturbingly thick accent, pretending to tell some of the jocks off. Everybody snickered, except for Annabeth, who simply sighed and twirled her pencil around with her fingers.

_He tries so hard,_ she thought, watching him with distaste. She knew who he was. Prissy - no, Percy Jackson, one of Maynard's biggest targets; poor, with uneducated parents, low level of intelligence, and even lower levels of self respect. Sure, his mom worked at Google, but she was simply a cook. Not even a chef, but a cook. Word about him got around fast, and being the idiot that he was, he attempted to pretend he knew nothing of the rumours. He then decided to get another target stapled onto his back as he became the class clown.

The bell rang, and the boy looked around as everybody settled into their seat at the lab desks. By the time the teacher walked in, it seemed that the only seat that was available was that next to Annabeth's. She closed her eyes and sucked in a breath as he stumbled towards the seat and wearily climbed on.

'Well class,' Mrs. Van As started, her thick Dutch accent dripping off of every word, 'today I will return your test papers.'

A groan. The woman glared.

'I have already marked them,' she hissed. 'We will look over the answers together, as it seems many of you had problems with this unit.'

Another groan. This time, the woman didn't even bother reacting. She took the papers and started to pass them out.

Annabeth sighed and tapped her pencil on the table. The boy next to her froze; he didn't even seem to be breathing. She suppressed a smirk, and weighed the idea of starting up a conversation. Just when she decided that no, that wasn't the best idea for her rep, a low voice caught her attention.

'You worried?'

She turned to the boy. 'Not particularly. You?'

'...Yeah.'

She had no idea what he meant by that but didn't bother continuing. He licked his lips and looked down at his hands, which were now a tangled mess. She guessed he was worried.

Mrs. Van As got to their table and slapped the test papers upside down so that their marks were covered. Annabeth picked up the paper and raised an eyebrow.

Ninety one percent. Not bad. She flipped through to look for her mistakes. Small points taken off for key terms. She didn't particularly study, so this was pretty good. Still an A+. She shrugged and carefully placed her paper on the table, ready to mark the mistakes, even though she knew the answers already.

She heard her neighbour pick up his test. She tried to see what he got from the corner of her eye, but he had curved the paper in such a way that he was the only person who could see the mark. He immediately slapped the paper back on the desk and scowled.

'Not what you expected?' she asked without thinking.

'I'm not very good with moles. Too many formulae to remember.'

She nodded and looked back down at the paper.

'Honestly, it's as if all of you had cheated from each other,' the older woman started, folding her arms. 'I've never had so many C's and D's in one class throughout my whole career!'

'And we know just how longs that is!' one of the students remarked. The class burst into laughter and the woman cleared her throat.

'This isn't a laughing matter. All but two of you barely passed and-or failed. I don't even know how to deal with such low marks.'

As the chemistry teacher walked them through the test, Annabeth noticed that her neighbour wasn't taking the notes on his test paper and next to the question, as most people did. He took all of the notes in a small journalist's notepad. She also noticed that he seemed to be taking notes on almost every question.

_Is his mark that bad?_

He glanced at her quickly, catching her eyes, and she immediately turned away. He soon followed.

Yeah. This wasn't going to become a friendship anytime soon.

When the bell rang to signify the end of class, everybody rushed to get out of the dreary classroom. The boy attempted to do the same thing, but struggled with putting the paper into his ratty backpack. When he finally managed to accomplish his task, he ran off, quickly saying goodbye to the teacher,

and forgetting to zip up his backpack.

The flap of the front pocket was drooping lazily downwards as he stormed out of the room, but her question had been answered.

But why in hell was he trying so hard to hide his mark?

She pulled the strap of her messenger bag over her shoulder and briskly walked in the opposite direction. She didn't need any involvement with someone as unpredictable as him. Where there's controversy, there's potential danger to her reputation.


	3. Afraid

**Hi guys!**

**I'd li****ke to once again thank everybody read my very first fan fiction, especially those following up with the chapters. **

**This chapter's song is _Afraid_ by The Neighborhood. I'd like to note that I chose the songs not according to song titles but according to the lyrics in the song. **

**Enjoy!**

**- M**

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><p>Percy ran into the cafeteria and slid quickly into his seat. the boy opposite him shook in shock as Percy cursed and realized that his bag was unzipped this whole time. He looked through his belongings, making sure that nothing was lost. Everything seemed in order. He looked again at the red mark atop his test paper.<p>

"How'd you do?" Grover asked, munching on his sliced cucumbers. Percy looked up and grinned.

"Ninety seven."

"No way."

"Yes way!" Percy chimed, realizing how teenage-girl-esque he sounded. He bit his lip, trying to hide the dumb grin that was glued to his face. Grover smiled as well; it was nice to see his best friend so happy.

"I'm still mad though," Percy started. Grover looked up, confused.

"Annabeth Chase sat next to me in class today," he continued. Grover nodded slowly, not seeing the problem. As far as he knew, Annabeth Chase was a superstar, and even being near her was fortunate.

"I know what you're thinking. How could I be mad for having to sit with the smartest, prettiest, most popular girl at school?" he said, looking at Grover. The other boy groaned.

"Dude, no. Not this again-"

"Grover," Percy interjected, "as long as they don't know where my interests lie, they can't destroy them. Remember Marcus?"

Grover nodded.

"Well remember how much he loved art?"

Another nod.

"Remember how they managed to make him hate it for life, to the extent that he'd have nightmares about it?"

A sigh.

"Percy, Marcus was a student at this school almost five years ago. None of the students who did that are present anymore."

"Maybe so, Grover, but their legacies are still here," Percy responded, stuffing a blue chocolate chip cookie into his mouth. "Practically ninety nine percent of the school consists of people who were born with perfect genes, perfect parents, and perfect trust funds. For them to even _think _that someone from the one percent could make it big time is painful. They don't want me or you anywhere near their perfect lives and well planned out futures, no matter how good my Chemistry test is. I am a possible and unexpected hurdle and they will do everything to knock me down because face it, they're not exactly interested in jumping. I had the right to be worried about the school's most _perfect perfection_."

"You're impossible, Perce," Grover sighed. "How was your acting?"

"_Impeccable_, as usual," the raven haired boy answered, flipping his floppy bangs.

"Oh wow, big word, I think we should alert the media."

A skinny, gothic looking boy collapsed in the seat next to Grover's. Percy stuck his tongue out.

"Shut up Nico! I can be smart if I want to!"

"Sadly, that won't change the fact that there's no way you'll be able to pay for college."

Percy glared at his younger cousin, but knew in his heart that the fourteen year old was right. Despite his love for science, chances are that there's no way he'll be able to get anywhere just on pure talent. Especially with his inability to write without spelling words practically backwards due to his dyslexia. Grover cleared his throat.

"So, Nico, how's your first year of high school treating ya?"

"You've asked that every day for the past two months and I'm going to tell you _once again_ that it's like stepping in permanent dog shit."

"Meet any cute boys?" Percy snickered.

"Just you," he said, smiling with uncharacteristic sweetness, holding his hands to form a heart, which quickly turned into another gesture completely. Percy laughed. The fact that Nico was gay was more embarrassing for Nico than it was for anyone else. Yet another problem with being in a school where you are put at the bottom of the food chain before you even announce your name.

"So what's your next class?" Percy prompted the two. Nico smiled contently.

"Art. We're making self portraits out of collages," he said, poking at his salad with a plastic knife. "It's nice to have at least one class in which the teacher actually appreciates my realism."

Percy nodded and looked over to Grover, who just raised an eyebrow.

"Percy, I'm in your English class."

The green eyed boy stared at his friend for a second before groaning and lying his face on the cool surface of the table.

"_Nooooooooooo_," he moaned, knocking his forehead on the table. "I keep trying to forget that it exists but it keeps coming back!" He sat up and grabbed his friend by the shoulders, shaking him. "How can a language hate me so much?"

"Everyone hates you. Get used to it, _Prissy,_" Nico hissed, causing his older cousin to slump back onto the table surface.

"Nico, you're not helping. Percy, dude, listen," Grover started as he poked his seemingly lifeless friend in the shoulder. "Mr. Blofis doesn't hate you-"

"Yeah, well his ancestors definitely did, to give him such a shitty family name-"

"Nico, shut up," Grover interjected. He then cleared his throat and continued. "In fact, I think Mr. Blofis has a soft spot for you. You, however, hate English because of your bad luck with mental health."

"Ouch."

"Nico, _shut up_."

Percy sighed, lifting his head up. "Well, I can't do anything about my dyslexia. It's not like it's going away any time soon. And as for the ADHD - well, it's getting better..."

Grover gave him a look.

"...I think..."

The look continued.

"...It's not?"

"Percy, last week you walked into the wrong class by accident and stayed in the class for half an hour until the teacher realized that you had no idea what was going on. You were too distracted by your new _shoe laces_."

"At least I walked into a class I actually took-"

"You walked into US History Percy. You know nothing about US History!"

"Huh, I was sure I walked into Physics," the now embarrassed Percy mumbled. "Well at least it was the right grade-"

"_My _US History class, dumbass," Nico replied. Percy's face burned.

"They were nice shoe laces okay? They were the best laces ever! You'd be distracted too if you were me!" Percy justified. "And I don't even know if that counts as a symptom of ADHD." The boys in front of him laughed.

Percy blew a puff of air and looked down at his second cookie. Sometime whilst he was thinking as to whether he should eat it or save it, he could feel a pair of eyes burning into his back. He knew whose they were, and did everything he could to stop himself from turning around. Instead, he attempted to concentrate on Grover and Nico's conversation (more like argument) about which Disney movie was the best.

He knew that no matter what, he could not let the ninety-nine percent steal his soul. If he had to name a fear, the first thing he'd say is claustrophobia. The second?

The idea of Percy ever being a different Percy.

He was going to stay himself no matter what. Even if that meant lying about who he was.

The bell rang, and when Percy got up, the eyes were gone.

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><p><strong>Hi again!<strong>

**I'd like to note that Percy will continuously refer to the rich kids as the "ninety-nine percent".**

**As for the whole shoe lace story - does that actually happen? Well, I've almost done that on several occasions (walked into a class that wasn't mine and didn't realize it) and I don't have ADHD. I've also screamed out loud to a person in my head. I was at a mall. It was last year. Yeah, if this shit happens to me, I'm sure it would to him.**

**Thank you for reading! Tell me whatcha think.**


	4. Weirdo

Hey** Guys!**

**Firstly, I'd just like to note that I'm glad to hear that Percy's ****little shoelace experience seems realistic, since this is a human AU and I don't want things to seem like something out of a Disney show.**

**This chapter's title is from _Weirdo_ by Skylar Grey.**

**Enjoy!**

**- M**

**P.S. I do not own any of the below characters, including those from Oliver Wilde's play _The Importance of Being Earnest. _The play also has nothing to do with the story's plot line - it was just one of my favourite units in English class.**

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><p>By the time Annabeth arrived to her English class, curiosity was spewing out if her ears. If it wasn't for her own pride and fear, she would've cornered that little shit a long time ago. However, that did not stop her surprise when she noticed Drew's worried expression.<p>

"Annie, are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_," she snapped at the girl. "And I told you not to call me that."

Drew raised an eyebrow at Annabeth's attitude but asked no questions as they sat next to each other in the front row. The teacher, Mr. Blofis, was scribbling notes on the board as people piled into the class. Drew must've realized that Annabeth was in no mood to talk, so she took out her mirror and applied a thick layer of bright pink lip gloss, smacking her lips loudly in satisfaction. Annabeth groaned internally at the sound and proceeded to face the door, waiting for the last of the students to come in. Her gut dropped when she saw that familiar ratty blue hooded boy lumbering into the room, grinning widely at his dorky friend, who was hunched over from laughter. When the boy turned and caught her eyes, his grin dropped before he tore himself away from her view.

_That was the first time I've ever seen his face_, she realised, frowning. She wondered how she never noticed him before, even though they seem to have so many classes together. She looked back and saw him drop himself onto the seat in the very back corner, his face falling quickly onto the desk. She bit her lip to avoid smiling at his behaviour.

Despite her head telling her to stop staring, she decided that he was a lot more interesting than she thought. It was funny; just yesterday he was nothing more than an amusing story. Now he was her biggest mystery. She wondered just how long she could keep that curious little cat inside of her alive - her pride seemed to be failing her, and she knew very well that nothing good would come out of that.

Mr. Blofis cleared his throat and Annabeth quickly turned to face him. To her left, she could feel Drew's perfectly made up eyes squint at her suspiciously. Annabeth just shrugged in response, facing forward.

"Good afternoon class. Today, we will be starting the first act of_ The Importance Of Being Earnest._ I hope all of you brought your copies of the play?"

The class began to rustle through their bags in search of the book. Annabeth, being the organized person she naturally was, already had her copy in front of her. The boy in the back, however, scrunched up his nose in confusion before his face paled.

"Percy, is there a problem?"

Sixteen pairs of eyes turned to look at an abashed Percy, who found sudden interest in the surface of his desk.

"I, uh, I don't have a copy," he mumbled, turning red.

"And why's that?" Mr. Blofis asked, unimpressed.

"I don't know," the boy stammered. "I had it before, I was sure... And now I don't."

The class laughed whilst Annabeth, now filled with a strange anger towards the snickering idiots, rummaged through her bag to find her own personal copy of the play, holding it up. Originally, she took it in case Drew decided to carry nothing more than her make up bag (which happens more often than it should), but since Drew actually brought her copy, Annabeth didn't see the problem with giving it someone else.

"Mr. Blofis, I have a spare copy. He can use it if he wants to," she offered. She turned around looking at Percy, whose eyes glinted as if he was about to cry. She stood up and walked over to his desk, smiling as she handed the book to him. He mumbled a quick 'thank you', blushing aggressively. Mr. Blofis smiled at her, nodding in approval.

"Thank you, Annabeth. Percy, please make sure you bring your own copy next time."

Percy nodded, biting his lip, as the class snickered at his expense.

"We will begin by reading the act aloud as a class and discussing it at the end. On the board, I've noted which person will read which character. Luke, you will be Algernon."

Next to her, the teen smiled smugly, pushing his large framed glasses up his nose and winking at Annabeth. She suppressed the urge to gag and winked back, as all good girlfriends should.

"Travis, you can act as Ernest," Mr. Blofis continued as the said boy shrugged and started looking over his lines. "And lastly, Percy - you're Lane."

"More like _Lame,_" snickered Ethan, one of Luke's friends. Luke smirked and turned to him.

"It makes sense that _Prissy _is the servant, doesn't it?" he commented as the rest of the class burst into laughter. Percy sunk into his seat, covering his face with the book. Annabeth waited for him to pull his usual clown moves and embarrass himself further, but Percy seemed out of it. Mr. Blofis cleared his throat and looked at her.

"Annabeth, could you be the narrator?"

The blonde nodded and looked at her lines.

"Well then, let's begin. Annabeth, please start us off."

Another nod, then an intake of breath.

"_Lane is arranging afternoon tea on the table, and after the music has ceased, Algernon enters._"

She turns to Luke waiting for him to start off the act with his line as Algernon. He lifted his head up high, and in an obnoxiously fake British accent, he started "Did you hear what I was playing, _Lame_?"

The class giggled as they turned their heads towards Percy. The raven haired boy looked hard at his lines, but didn't say anything, until Mr. Blofis called out his name.

"Percy? Are you having a hard time reading the lines?"

"Uh, uhm, no, sorry," he mumbled quickly. "I was just... far away."

"Well, Percy, if you could please get back down to Earth and say your line, I would be very pleased."

The boy nodded and looked back down at the play. Once again, his brows furrowed in concentration and he stared at the line.

"I-I didn't... uh, uhm, _think_... it, it, ugh _- it'd - _shoot," he mumbled, almost drowning in his chair, face redder and redder with each word. "May I be excused?"

"Is there a problem Percy?" Mr. Blofis asked, looking worriedly at the boy.

"He was _born_ a problem, Mr. B," Luke muttered, causing those around him to laugh harshly. Percy looked round before dropping the book and running out of the classroom. Just as he left, the class roared in laughter, some people laughing so hard that they had to double over. Annabeth wanted to scream at them for laughing so much, wanted so _fucking badly _to wipe those smiles and smirks off of their faces, but was stopped by Mr. Blofis' clap of hands which signaled the class to quiet down. The teacher then proceeded to cast Percy's dorky friend - Grover, if she remembered correctly - as Lane. The class continued as if nothing happened, and the whole time Annabeth was sitting on her hangs to keep herself from ripping off that stupid smirk off of her boyfriend's face.

She instead focused on the dark, wooden door, waiting for it to swing open and for that ratty blue hoodie to appear in front of her once again, or for Mr. Blofis -that fucking teacher, honestly - to at least go and look for his own damned student, but nothing happened.

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><p>The second the bell rang, mouths started flapping at about a hundred miles an hour. Within five minutes, word of today's English class had spread like the plague - everybody wanted dirt on the oh-so-famous badly nicknamed Percy Jackson. Annabeth of course wasn't having it and shrugged off anyone who wanted to talk about it. Luke grabbed her arm and spun her around look at him, only to be greeted with eyes colder than ice and darker than the abyss itself.<p>

"What?" she spat, venom dripping off of her voice. Luke raised an eyebrow.

"What's _your_ problem?" he asked. "You don't actually _care_ about the guy, do you?"

"No, but doesn't mean that you should be such a dick towards him!" she shouted, causing everybody around them to stop gossiping and look at the couple. Drew tried to pull Annabeth away from her boyfriend but from the look in his eyes, Luke was ready to argue.

"Listen, _Princess_," he hissed. "I'm just preparing him for his own future. He'll never add up to anything, and I'm just making sure that he finds that out early rather than late."

Annabeth's hands curled into fists and she wanted to scream that _no, _he was incredibly good at chemistry, but she shut her mouth and walked past him instead. She wasn't interested in ruining her rep for sticking up for someone like him. And despite this one good mark, she knew nothing else about him. It could've been a fluke, she tried to convince herself, but didn't believe it. Still, today was the first time she'd ever properly noticed him after being in high school together for two years and two months.

She kept walking, avoiding people's whispers, and as she turned the corner and headed back towards Mr. Blofis' classroom, she heard Luke shout

"You're a fucking _weirdo_, you know that Annabeth?!"

Angry tears welled up in her eyes as she stormed into the now empty class room and towards Percy's vacant desk. She picked up his bag and her copy of the play, stuffing it into the front pocket of the backpack. She saw his test mark once again, more clearly this time, and stared for a while before zipping the bag closed and sitting herself on the table.

_Weirdo? Ha, _she thought humourlessly. _So I say what I actually think for once, and **I'm** the weirdo?_

It was then that she decided that being fake was something that people actually accepted, and that people didn't like knowing what was actually on your mind.

It was also the first time she'd ever considered dropping her act, but by the time her rational side took over and told her to keep herself together, the classroom door opened.

_So much for normality._

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><p><strong>Just so y'all know, Luke is a hipster. I figured he wasn't really a jock in my head, so instead he's just cool, level-headed, fashionable and pretty much uninterested in everyone except his frisky girlfriend.<strong>

**Keep me posted on anything you gotta say on this little thing over here ;)**

**- M**


	5. Starships

**Hi guys!**

**More than 1,200 reads and I'm crying. My face needs a lifesaver for all of these tears. i can't believe people read this. Thank you so much!**

**This chapter's song was chosen purely as a band aid to lamely cover the blows. It will soon prove to be useless. I'm thinking about changing the genre to angst, but it is very hurt/comfort so I don't know. **

**Have fun~**

**-M**

* * *

><p>"What are <em>you<em> doing here?"

Percy stood at the door of the English classroom, panting, attempting to literally swallow air despite the way his throat was closing up from the run. Annabeth Chase sat calmly on the edge of his previously occupied desk, legs folded neatly and his backpack pressed against her side. Those sharp eyes of hers were practically biting into him and he felt too afraid to move, even with the confusion and anger he was currently harbouring for the girl. Her highness, in all her curly haired glory, seemed mostly unfazed by his presence, almost as if she -

"I was expecting you," she spoke, her monotonous voice echoing throughout the empty classroom, interrupting her thoughts. Before he could buckle under the sheer power of her gloomy eyes, he took four long strides and grabbed his bag from her side, taking a couple of seconds to look her in the eye before turning on his heel and heading for the door. There was no point in having a stare-down with the Queen of the Ninety Nine Percent. Just when he was about to leave, he heard her voice once again, causing him to whip his head to face her.

"What, no thanks?" she asked sardonically, looking bored. He narrowed his eyes, hoping that if he blurred his vision enough she would disappear. Sadly, nothing happened.

_"Thank you,"_ he hissed, doing a small bow just to spite her. "May I leave now, or do I have to kiss your toes?"

She grimaced, hopping off of the table and storming towards him. Se grabbed him by the elbow before he could make a run for it, turning him around to face her.

"Is there some sort of problem you have with me? Did I do something to you that I don't know about?" she spat, holding him by a collar. He'd never seen anyone - much less a beautiful girl - turn such a crimson red from anger. Her fingertips were practically burning him and he was pretty sure he was shaking, but if there was anything Percy hated, it was letting people think they could get away with whatever they want. He grabbed her hand and ripped it off of his collar, dropping it like it was hot iron.

"What's wrong? Is this first time anyone hasn't bowed down before your very presence?"

Her face paled in shock for a second before the red returned and her hands balled into fists.

"Is that what this is all about? Are you upset with my _popularity_?" she screamed in reply, almost laughing at the idea.

"You can be as popular as you want, believe me, I don't care. Just stay in that pretty little shielded circle that you call your life and most importantly_ stay away from me,_" he hissed, not worried about eye contact anymore. As short as her visit into his life was, he wanted her to leave as soon as possible. Just before he whipped back round to leave, he saw her face soften and her eyes shine in a familiar way that made his gut wrench and his chest squeeze in an uncomfortable way.

He decided it was best for him to leave before she could throw a pity-party. The squeak of his sneakers was the only sound heard through the empty halls, and there was no Queen Bee following him around.

_Just as things should be._

* * *

><p>Grey.<p>

_Just as things should be._

The walls of the classroom were drab and dimly lit and everything blurred and spun and her cheeks felt wet and warm but her eyes were set in her signature glare and right now, that was the only thing keeping her grounded. The floor was no longer cold and her body was numb and she hated her life but of course people could do nothing else but assume that she was great and fine and fucking dandy but of course of course of course _of course._

She was perfect. Perfect perfect _perfect_ like a little Barbie and _everybody_ loved her and why why _why_ did she even have the fucking right to be angry _right_? I mean it's just so fucking selfish to be sad when you've got everything, _right_?

What _doesn't_ she have?

A sniffle, followed by a sharp pain in her shoulder where her nails dug in. She managed to lift herself off of the floor shakily, grabbing her bag and stumbling out. She took her phone out of the front pocket, wincing at the brightness of the screen. She was greeted with fourteen notifications - eight calls and two texts from Drew, who was supposed to be her ride, three calls from Luke, for God knows what reason, and a text from her father, notifying her that he wouldn't be home for lunch. Her lack of transport caused a large sigh to escape from her small mouth. She had money for a taxi, but taxi drivers here were awfully sleazy, especially to Maynard students. She regretted coming back to the classroom.

Her eyes drifted towards the time. Four twenty-three in the afternoon. He left her in the classroom over an hour ago, and she didn't even realize that she was alone for that long. She knew he'd be gone by now (why would he stay?), as would all of the teachers and staff. She never regretted carpooling more than she did now. She pushed through the large doors and blinked quickly in an attempt to adjust her eyes to the stupid, shining piece of shit in the sky. Hopping awkwardly down the stairs with shaky legs, she kept her eyes glue to the ground, both to avoid the sun and avoid any possible eye contact. The longer she looked at the cement, the more she wanted to fall into it and disappear from the face of the earth.

"I should've taken those pills," she mumbled to herself whilst looking for a taxi company in her contacts.

"What pills?"

She was so shocked at the sound that she almost dropped her phone. Gripping onto the device for dear life, she looked up to see a ratty blue hoodie seated on the hood of an old, rundown Impala. He was sitting with his legs crossed, looking straight at her with his bottom lip between his teeth. If she wasn't so dead, that gesture might've been cute, but she was more worried about the fact that he was still here. It took her a while to register the content of his question, but when she got it she felt her face heat up.

"N-Nothing," she stuttered, her eyes still grud to him. "Why are you here?"

"I was waiting for you. It's Friday," he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. She nodded slowly, her eyebrows furrowing.

"And?"

"Everybody left as soon as they could to get started on their weekend. My car was the only one in the parking lot, and I figured you might need a ride," he explained. She could see he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on hers, but he was shaking. "And… I wanted to apologize. I'm not usually one to be an ass, and you're right, you did nothing wrong. So, uh, I'm sorry?"

Her blank stare continued even when he gave her a lopsided grin, before she came to her senses and shook her head. She walked over to the car door and got in, just like that. Percy followed, clearly unfazed by her behaviour, the edge of his mouth quirked upward in amusement.

"Where to?"

"Drive to the Greenslane complex - I'll direct you from there."

"Greenslane?"

A nod.

"Isn't that like twenty minutes away?"

Another nod.

"...Huh."

He shifted into gear and started driving. The car was heavy with silence and clear discomfort radiating from the boy to her left and she wondered how long they could keep this up until he buckled under guilt.

Her question was answered seven minutes later when he mumbled "I'm sorry" yet again. Somehow, all of her previous anger and angst and hate was gone; in fact, she almost laughed. But just to test him, she decided to refrain from replying.

Less than two minutes later, he apologized once more. She bit her tongue and faced forward.

Thirty seconds after that he moved off the road and parked at the side of the road, turning to her and bowing his head.

_"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry -"_

At that point, Annabeth gave up and threw her head back in laughter. "Jesus Percy, can you be more of a kelp head? You're forgiven!"

He looked up, his eyes wide with shock but his grin large with relief. He leant back in his chair contently before switching on the radio (which he was probably too nervous to listen to before) and moving back onto the road.

Three minutes and a horrible pop song later his grin was still wide, if not wider, as he said "You know my name."

She snorted, eyes focused on the moving scenery to her right. "Is that so surprising?"

"Yeah. I mean we've never even talked before."

"You're in a lot of my classes."

"Really?"

"You're also one of the few kids who willingly takes all three sciences."

"You noticed?"

"Well, yeah. You're with me in all of them. And you don't exactly take attention away from yourself."

"True. But no one else notices."

"Shut up, I noticed, and that's the point."

"Okay."

"Okay."

She turned towards him to see his reaction. She wasn't disappointed.

"Your grin just somehow widened by an inch. No joke."

The grin turned into a laugh. A nice laugh. A _real_ laugh.

_When was the last time you heard one of those?_ she thought idly, as her eyes traced the shape of his jaw. He was pale and he was slim, but somehow, he wasn't unattractive. He was far away from Luke, who was almost like a model in stature and face, and yet… he was better than Luke. More interesting to look at. More real. More _there_.

"Are you checking me out?"

"You _wish_."

"Yeah, I kinda do."

She pushed his shoulder playfully and he gasped, feigning shock.

"Annabeth Chase, how could you push the driver! We could've gotten into an accident!"

Somehow, his melodramatic act got her to laugh hysterically. He wasn't sure why, but he followed. The car shook from all of the bubbly noise until Percy gasped (again, melodramatically) and turned up the volume.

"What -"

"SHUSH NO SHUT UP THIS IS MY FAVOURITE SONG," he yelled over the speakers. She stifled a laugh as he began his awful attempt at rapping.

_"Let's go to the beach, each, let's go get a wave-"_

"Oh my-"

_"They say, what they gonna say-"_

"NO-"

_"Have a drink, clink, found the Bud Light, bad bitches like me, is hard to come by-"_

"Holy _shit_, you fucking fish brain _stop_ please stop I'm _begging_ you-"

"SING WITH ME ANNABETH - _STARSHIPS ARE MEANT TO FLY~"_

She laughed so hard that singing wasn't even an option.

* * *

><p>By time he parked outside her home, her face was red and he was out of breath and they were so full of adrenalin that she couldn't walk to her front door without his support (and his support was pretty much useless). They managed to make some small talk, and all of it went down the drain when she'd start laughing and as much as he hated himself for it, he found her pretty cute.<p>

And so he admired how her curls floated around her face like a halo and how her eyes crinkled when she laughed and how despite her tan skin she had freckled adorning her nose and noticed that her voice sounded really, really good and was so fucking glad that he apologized and saw this side of her.

That is, until she thanked him and closed her front door and his eyes readjusted themselves from heart shapes into normal shapes and he saw how beautiful and fucking expensive looking that door was. And he realized who she was. And he realized that the girl he was just crushing on was the same girl he wished dead every other day.

And _no_, life isn't a fucking fairy tale and singing Starships isn't the answer.

And _no_, no matter what, he can't get near her again.

_Ever._


	6. Bury Me

**Hi guys!**

**I'm BACK! And better yet, I'm back from San Francisco. I will try to put some of what I have learned about the city into this work. **

**I apologize by the way. It's been a while, I know. I rewrote this chapter like a million times.**

**So this chapter title comes from _Bury Me_ by Breathe Carolina! **

**Have fun!**

**-M**

* * *

><p>"FUCK!"<p>

Repercussions.

A string of heavy booms and claps and banging on walls and doors and no. Just no.

Knees weak, she fell to the floor, face pressed into the palms of her hands, her mind playing reruns of his smile his laugh the tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel and that _stupid_ voice he put on when he sang that actually got her high on air from all that laughing. She collapsed, sobbing.

She couldn't.

_Why not?_

This is not the time.

_Why not?_

"Please, leave me alone," she whimpered into the carpet.

_But what's the problem?_

That's the thing. She didn't know.

...

When he got back home that night, he heard it before he saw it.

It was like a slideshow of photographs that didn't add up.

His mother, crouching legs, cold pale tile, tears, tears, tears, white, pink, red, glass, a bottle -

_Gabe._

And time slowed down substantially. Not in the 'action-movie' 'dodging-bullets' kind of way. Or in that 'romantic, running towards each other on the beach' kind of way. In the 'I can see what's coming before it happens' kind of way, which Percy thinks is the worst kind of slow motion. He can see Gabe turning around to face him. He can see Gabe raising an eye brow. He can see Gabe's drunken sneer, and the throb of veins on his forehead. He can see Gabe inching towards him, and by then, he decides that rather than contemplating on which movie special effect is the worst to feel literally, he should get a move on.

And just like that, there's a spark and a blackout, followed by onomatopoeia - crashing, banging, shrieking, booming. Nothing to see, just noise. And the occasional pain.

When the blackout ends, he opens his eyes to see white, which he hopes to be the white of his apartment ceiling rather than the white of a hospital room. Luckily, his prayers are answered, because when he sits up (bring a lot of pain to pretty much everywhere) he sees fading wallpaper. He thinks briefly of the time when his mother was happy and decided that yellow was the best colour and picked out hideous yellow wallpaper with sunflowers on it, which he hated at the time but longed for when they faded out.

But it wasn't time to be thinking of sunflowers or happy times.

So his eyes widened in alert and began the search for Gabe, who was nowhere to be seen. His mother wasn't anywhere either. The shards of glass from Gabe's beer bottle shone on the tile floor, reflecting the last light of day. The digital clock read seven-oh-eight. Panic rose in his throat.

"Mom?"

There was no answer. He stood up, dragging his feet to and past the door frame, through the tiny corridor. He choked out to his mother again and again to no avail. By the time he stepped into the living room, he felt like he was _drowning _in his own heartbeat. That is, until he saw his mother with her face in her hands.

"Mom!" he shrieked, running to grab his mother by the shoulders. "Mom, what's wrong? Mom!"

"Percy, I'm sorry," she sobbed, dropping her hands. "But your mother's not here anymore, _punk._"

She lifted her face, but it wasn't her face, it was Gabe's.

And of course, all he could do is scream.

* * *

><p>By the time his eyes were open, his mouth was wide and raw and gasping for air. The s=ceiling was white, but it wasn't apartment white. It was hospital white. And there were nurses with worry in their eyes and blaring fluorescent lights and wires tangled around his body. And the first thing he said was<p>

"A dream. Of course it was a fracking dream."

He laughed with relief, and of course it came out manic, because the nurses looked more worried than they did before. But he decided that if he was at the hospital, he was safe.

"Perseus Jackson?"

His laugh faded and he turned towards the voice of a tall man in a white coat.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better, now that I just found out that Gabe _didn't_ turn into my mother."

No reply.

"...He, uh, didn't, right? Like, my mom's still my mom?"

"Yes, Perseus, your mother is fine-"

"Please, call me Percy."

"Okay, _Percy_, you mother is completely alright. She had a few bruises from her fight with Gabe, and was let out of the hospital a few days ago, after she recovered form her shock."

"Oh, well that's good."

A pause.

"Wait, how long have I been here?"

"You've been out for about a week. You were hit on the head and required stitches in several places. Luckily there were no broken bones."

"Oh. A week."

"Yes."

"Oh."

Another pause.

"What happened to Gabe?"

"He was arrested. You won't have to worry about him anymore."

"Huh."

"You will be let out soon. It'd probably be best for you to leave the hospital tomorrow morning, after you rest for the night. I will just go and get your mother, she's right outside-"

"I want to leave today."

"Percy-"

"I've been 'resting' for a week now. I want to get out."

"We will discuss this with your mother and let her decide."

In the time that the doctor left, one of the nurses unhooked him from all of the drips and machinery, getting him into a sitting position, whilst the other brought water, which he swallowed quickly. When his mother came in, she enveloped him in a warm hug, and he suddenly felt a thousand times better.

"Your son believes that he is ready to leave the hospital tonight. I thought it would be better for him to stay another night, just to make sure that everything is fine-"

"And I said that I'll be fine and that I don't need any more rest. I just want to home, mom."

His mother bit her lip and Percy pouted like he used to when he was a child. She sighed, caving in.

"I think I'll take him home, Doctor. I'll make sure he doesn't do too much and right now, I think being at home is the best medicine. I'll contact you if there's a problem."

The doctor nodded, and within minutes, Percy was in a taxi, on the way back to the apartment. His mother was texting someone, and he wasn't bothered to ask who, because he was already asleep with his cheek pressed against the car window.

...

* * *

><p>When Percy came in, he didn't even notice the fact that she was there. Her hands shook as she tried her best to focus on the head of the gloomy teenager sitting just in front of her. Percy seemed too preoccupied with the furniture and the paint and the floor and the decor and <em>why couldn't he just look at her.<em>

When Percy's mother invited her to come and celebrate Percy's 'coming home' and told her that 'the key is under the welcome mat,' Annabeth thought that she was insane. Despite the fact that she visited the hospital (secretly) almost every day, they'd only actually interacted once. And once she came to terms with the fact that she found him mildly attractive and entertaining, things only became more difficult because (a) she figured this out literally _five minutes_ before his bashed up ass appeared on the news and (b) she was _supposed_ to stay away from him for her rep. His friends practically screamed when they saw her in the hospital. Even now all of them were tense around her presence. Well, all except Rachel Dare, the outcast artist daughter of one of the richest men in the world, who watched her smugly. Annabeth was pretty sure that Rachel could see right right through her and begged that she was the kind of girl who kept her thoughts to herself. So far, there was no leakage, but that was no reassurance.

When Percy finally noticed all of the people in the room, he jumped, and everybody performed their badly rehearsed "surprise!"

Annabeth's yell came out as a squeak. Go figure.

Percy laughed and ran up to Grover first, hugging him and clapping his back and yelling stereotypical boy greetings like 'my man' and 'my nigga' and she was just _hoping _that he said that as a joke because that is just fucking disgusting and rude. Next was Nico, who approached Percy slowly and cautiously before Percy picked him up and swung him round, causing the younger boy to shriek. Rachel came next, a smirk on her face. They hugged like they'd done it a million times, like siblings. In the end, the only person in the room who hadn't greeted Percy was Annabeth. When he realized this, his eyes widened a little, before he gave her that same face splitting grin he gave her when hey were almost-flirting in the car. He opened his arms and gestured for her to come.

Somehow, hugging Percy was the last thing she expected. She expected shouting and arguing, so when she walked into his arms she tensed. She gave Percy one of those awkward girl-boy hugs, where they weren't sure how tight to squeeze or where to place their hands, before Percy did this sigh-laugh and picked her up from her waist, spinning her around. She squealed, not knowing how else to react. When he put her down, his hands lingered on her waist and his grin was burning into her eyes because it was so bright and he was so _happy_ and she just _wanted him so much._

But of course, he had to let her go at some point, so he did. And somehow, just like that, every worry she had about coming here disappeared. It was as if she was here a million times, as if his friends were her friends, as if she was completely one of them. She listened to Rachel nag on about what a 'brat' Percy was in middle school, and Nico agreeing, and Grover warning Annabeth to never get on either of their bad sides because they would 'ruin your life'. She watched Percy and his friends yell at each other at the dinner table and somehow ended up joining, almost spitting Sally's spaghetti into Percy's face (but she wouldn't do that, since that would be a waste of delicious food). She didn't question the blue chocolate chip cookies, because they just seemed so _Jackson_. She even somehow managed to eat five of them without thinking of throwing them up. Everything just felt so... _Comfortable._

As his friends left one by one, she was surprised to be included in the circle of hugs. She found out that Grover's stronger than he looks, Nico is in serious need to eat more Jackson cookies, and Rachel hugged everyone like they were her sibling. For the first time in her life, she felt true acceptance.

However, when they left and Annabeth sat on Percy's bed waiting for him to come in with yet more cookies, her happiness was replaced with guilt. Not even once had she acknowledged any of them in her life at school. In fact, whenever she came anywhere near them, she would act as though there was a rodent near her, with a snarl and fists. It's not that she didn't understand their lack of need for popularity and a social life. She just thought that they were scum born from scum, and wanted to stay that way their whole lives, when in fact, they had their own 'lingo' and lame inside jokes and nicknames. After years of disrespect towards Rachel, she finally understood that she just wanted to feel real, the same way Annabeth felt during the last few hours.

And so, when Percy walked into the room with a tray in his hands and a smile on his face, she burst into tears. How could she be such a fucking _bitch_? Who the fuck was she to think that she was somehow better than them, _happier_ than them, when she fucking _knew_ she was sad to the point that she had to fucking _cry_ herself to sleep?

She could feel Percy's arms sneak up past her waist and to her shoulders as he sat down next to her. He lay his head on top of hers, and despite the physical discomfort, she felt a little bit better and her sobbing subsided. He was hushing quietly and her shoulders stopped being so tense as she leaned into him. After a long silence, he began to talk.

"I'm amazed that you didn't question the peculiar colour of the cookies."

"I suppose I should have, but they just seemed so... _you._"

"I look like a blue chocolate chip cookie?"

"You _seem _like a blue chocolate chip cookie. _Peculiar._"

"Fair enough."

A pause.

"Although if there is a particular reason for the peculiar-ness of the cookies, I'd love to know it."

Another pause. Worry began to inch back into Annabeth's mind.

"I guess if my mom invited you to come, you visited me in hospital."

"Mhm."

"Which means you also know about _why_ I was in hospital."

"...I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your damn fault."

That was the first time she heard him swear. Then, simultaneously,

"I'm sorry."

And they laughed.

"...Anyways, as I was saying-"

"Sorry."

"Oh, shut up. My mom married my step-dad, Gabe, when I was about eleven. He was great at first. Got me gifts. Made mom happy. The works. Then, poof! My life turned into that of a modern day Cinderella. Minus the blond hair, evil sisters, and singing rats."

"They were mice."

"Same thing."

"No they're _not_-"

"Do you want to hear the story or not?"

She huffed. He smirked.

"So, one day, he actually attempted a conversation with me. It started off about cars and somehow drifted into food. When he asked me what my favourite food was, I just said 'I don't know, I guess anything that's blue'. He said there's no such thing as blue food, and my mother decided that as an act of defiance, she would make darn sure that she would make blue food whenever possible."

"The spaghetti wasn't blue."

"And Gabe's in jail. And I like to think that he's in jail because of me, and that the only reason I survived with him in the house for five years is because of the blue food, so it worked okay?"

"Okay."

They laughed.

A pause.

"Why didn't she just divorce him?"

"I think she was scared. Scared that he would come and hurt her, or worse yet, me."

"And now he did."

"But I'm fine, and he's gone. For good."

Another pause.

"Can I ask you something personal, Annabeth?"

"Well I guess I owe it to you now."

"Are you okay?"

"...I'm fine."

"No, I mean, is there anything that's bothering you, hurting you? I don't mean physically, I mean... _inside_."

"You sound like a cheese-ball."

"Annabeth."

"Wait, cheese-balls don't talk."

"_Annabeth_."

"Percy, I'm fine. And even if I wasn't fine, I wouldn't tell _you_, okay? I have a shrink for shit like that," she snapped, jumping away from him. His eyes were wide and his lips set apart in shock and there was so much _hurt_ in that beautiful beautiful green and she felt like killing herself right then and there just for making him ever show such a face. She was ready to leave when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to sit back on the bed. She didn't even notice the tears until he was wiping them away.

"Is that what the pills were for then?"

She nodded.

"Are you scared?"

Another nod.

"Of what?"

She sobbed, not looking up.

"...Are you scared of me?"

It hadn't occurred to her that she was until she nodded. And when he asked

"Why?"

her mouth moved on its own and replied

"There's no such thing as being genuine."

To which Percy had no reply for a while. So they just sat in silence and stared ta his bed sheets until he came up with one.

"Listen, Annabeth, I know you won't necessarily trust me or talk to me about this stuff, but it's not like everybody in the world is your enemy, okay? You don't have to hate or be hated. You have to stop thinking that someone's either getting hurt or out to hurt _you_ because sometimes people don't get any advantages out of pain. If you're scared of me because I _genuinely_ like you, then that's bullshit."

A pause due to shock. Percy's seriousness quickly faded unto a laugh.

"Crud, you made me swear! Annabeth, I don't swear!"

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing! You're supposed to be smart, right? Come on, where's that smart-aleck comment, Wise Girl?"

"Did you just pet name me Jackson?"

"It's a freaking nickname-"

"Yeah? Well you're Seaweed Brain!"

"_Seaweed_? Why _seaweed?_"

"Because your eyes look like the ocean, so there's probably seaweed behind them."

She was drunk from laughter and they were so close that she could set on _fire._

"...I have lost all respect for your intellect, Annabeth."

"Just shut up, will you?"

"Why don't you make me?"

So she did.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't know if that counts as a cliff hanger but TA DAH. This was a long-ass chapter guys. I had to end somewhere, so I ended there. I'm excited about the next one... but you should probably prepare for more angst. This is what I live for. I am so sorry.<strong>


	7. Fear and Loathing

**Hi guys!**

**I'm on another writing spree. Woohoo! **

**Just to be clear, I had no freaking idea what I was going to do with this story, so I'm making things up on the spot. If things sound off, tell me.**

**This chapter's song is Fear and Loathing by Marina and the Diamonds. It's a song that really helped me realize that it's okay to be happy and naive and is sort of my savior.**

**Enjoy!**

**-M**

* * *

><p>Kissing Annabeth Chase was something, alright.<p>

It occurred to him that they might be moving too fast, since they'd only really interacted twice. But he kinda felt like he knew her for ages and ages, like they'd done this a million times. The word 'soulmate' crossed his mind, but he didn't want to jump to a conclusion. So he just focused on her.

It's not that he never kissed a girl before. He had a few girlfriends in his short life, and they'd all expected him to kiss them at some point. They were okay. Nothing ever sparked. He'd kissed Rachel before, to make sure that their relationship was nothing more than platonic, and she slapped him, so he figured that didn't count. This time he didn't know if it was his bashed up head talking or all of the chocolate chip cookies he inhaled, but something about kissing her made him light-headed and _alive._

They were stuck between moving with caution and rushing; softness and aggression; quiet and loud. Sometimes he would grip her hips to balance himself, but ended up getting drunk on her moan, deepening the kiss. Sometimes she would pull on his hair and he would gasp and she'd bite his lip. Sometimes he'd bite hers back. Kissing her felt like an emergency, but something about it made him more relaxed than he'd ever been.

Yep, it was really _something_.

That is until he cupped her face and realized that her cheeks were wet.

He slowed the kiss with extreme difficulty, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her neck, laying her head on his pillow. He then sat up and looked at her. Just looked. He saw the sliver of her exposed abdomen where her shirt had risen and the golden tan that covered her whole body and the perfectly fitted jeans and her messy curls splayed on his pillow and her parted red lips and flushed cheeks and neck and her glazed over stormy grey eyes. He wasn't sure if they were glazed from the kiss or from her tears, but decided it was best not to ask. He had no idea what he _could_ say.

"Why'd you stop?" she whispered, gripping onto his shirt. She started crying harder.

"You're crying."

_"Why did you stop?"_

"I was worried."

"_Percy._"

She was sobbing by now.

"Annabeth, I'll ask you again. Are you okay?"

"NO! NO, I'M NOT FUCKING OKAY PERCY!"

Her cries came out strangled. By now, his mother had come in, a worried expression on her face. He gave her a sympathetic look and mouthed for her to leave. She understood, looking back at at the girl before closing the door behind her. Not knowing what to say to cheer her up, he just lay down next to her and rolled her over to face him. His fingers danced along the curve of her waist, and he thought that if she wasn't crying, this would be just _perfect._

"Listen, you're in no state to drive herself back home, and since it's already almost midnight, I don't think you should leave anytime soon," he said, awaiting her response. She nodded and wiggled closer, placing her hands on his chest. She was still sobbing.

"Are you ever going to tell me what's wrong?"

No answer.

He tried to look at this from her point of view. Depression didn't mean crying and breaking down ever two minutes. It meant feeling useless, hated. Feeling like your every move is the wrong move, and like the only thing that surrounds you is pain. Him kissing her must have set off some sort of insecurity. It's not possible that she just thought she was a bad kisser - she seemed pretty confident in that ability. So-

"I'm not _that_ bad a kisser, am I?"

"No!" she squealed, laughing through her sobs.

"But it has something to do with me, right?"

She was silent as she pressed her forehead to his. He felt dazed, his eyes drifting and analyzing her face, counting every pale freckle.

"It has something to do with _us._"

"...Because you've got a boyfriend?"

"Had. I had a boyfriend. I broke up with him already."

"Oh. When was this?"

"When you were out."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Well, you should be, because I broke up with him because of you."

This grabbed Percy's attention.

"What? _Why?_"

She bit her lip, tears forming once again.

"I don't _know_, Percy. I just know that all the work I put into being so called 'perfect' became useless after you drove me home that night."_  
><em>

A pause.

"Annabeth."

"Hm?"

"You're an idiot."

"I'm sorry."

"Shut up."

He kissed her again. This time she didn't cry.

* * *

><p>She knew she was an idiot.<p>

And as she lay next to him that night, she decided that just this once, being an idiot was okay.

They didn't do anything. They didn't even talk after that. He just kept kissing her, slowly and softly, until her heartbeat was so slow and quiet she forgot that she was alive. She didn't understand how he could make her feel both dead and alive, and how he made her happy with both. She wanted to think it was impossible to fall in love so fast, but that's what she felt. Love.

But at this time of two thirty five, she began to worry. What if he didn't love her? What if everything she felt from him was just pity?

Her mother warned her of boys. She said all they ever wanted is your body.

She wanted to think he wasn't like that, but she barely knew him. This big love she had created in her mind was something that came out of a total of two interactions and a make-out session. Suddenly, she started to hate herself.

"Annabeth, if I wanted to have sex with you, we wouldn't be fully clothed and on top of the covers at two a.m.," Percy sighed into her ear drowsily.

"Why was that information necessary?"

"Because you're obviously worrying about it."

Her eyebrows furrowed and she scowled. How could he possibly know?

"You were stiff, by the way. As if you wanted to get out and run for your life."

"Did my stiffness wake you up?"

"No, my nightmare did."

"What happened?"

"Well, I guess it's not really a nightmare. I had a dream that you and I were arguing."

"About?"

"I don't know, something silly. Probably school hierarchy and how we can't be together because I'm unpopular and stuff."

She didn't reply to that.

"You forgot, didn't you," he groaned, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"More like I just refused to take it into consideration."

"Well, not everything is about your place in school. It's _high school_. Ten years from now, they won't remember who we are."

"They _will _remember me. Heiress of Chase, remember?"

"Well, by that time they won't care about your high school fling. All they'll be saying is 'oh, I knew her in high school'."

She sat up and he followed.

"A _fling_? Is that all this is?"

"Well if that's not it, then what is it?"

He made a valid point. As far as she knew, neither of them confessed or asked the other out or anything. No-one even knew that she talked to him except for his three friends. _She_ was treating him as a fling.

"Annabeth, it's okay. Just - what do you, uh, _feel_, when we're together?"

She gave him a pointed look.

"Percy, are you _seriously _asking me that?"

"Yes. It came out cruddy, but yes."

She chewed on her lip and located his eyes in the dark. The glint of green sent warmth to her core and her heartbeat slowed. She felt relaxed, at ease,

"Happy."

She noticed his eyes widen a little and regretted saying anything. But then he broke out that boyish grin and she felt like she was flying.

"You mean that?"

She flushed red and attempted to make the most unnoticeable nod possible.

"Wow," he breathed, leaning his head into her collarbone. "So does that mean that if I, hypothetically, asked you out, you'd say yes?"

"I don't know, why don't you try?"

He laughed at her growing smirk, but she knew that they were both just trying to hide the fact that their heads were replaced with tomatoes.

"Will you go out with me?"

"That depends, where are we going? I hope you're not planning to walk out of your window, because I have no intention of following you on that journey."

"Screw you!"

"I'd rather let my boyfriend do that, thank you very much."

"You said you don't have one!"

"Well not _yet_ I don't."

He raised an eyebrow, probably at her confidence, maybe because he thought she was going insane. Somehow she didn't mind the latter.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"This isn't a freaking John Green novel, Annabeth."

"Wow, you read that shit?"

"It's good, okay?"

"Okay."

They laughed. She wondered how the atmosphere always changed so quickly.

"Annabeth?"

"Hm?"

"Will you be mine?"

"Your what?"

Percy groaned, lifting his face to hers with a pout, before flashing a cheeky grin and kissing her. It was dizzying and intoxicating and when they separated, she had to hold onto his shoulders to refrain from falling to the floor.

"Annabeth Chase, will you be my girlfriend?"

"Took you long enough."

"Yeah, like, five minutes."

"Shut up."

"Maybe shut up can be our always."

"Shut up."

It was the second time that night he put her to sleep with kisses.

Maybe he was right. Maybe he was her ticket to a life without fear, without loathing. Maybe her whole life had just been a sad ballad, and all she needed was an idiotic pop song.

Who knows.

But maybe, just maybe, he'd help her say "I'm fine" and mean it.

* * *

><p>Or maybe, he was tearing up inside. Maybe he was going insane because of the guilt. Because she forgot one small detail;<p>

She knew _nothing _about him.

_Nothing at all._

* * *

><p><strong>I am doing my best to end every chapter in a cliffhanger okay and it is <em>killing me.<em> I'm running out of cliffhangers. Maybe I should stop ruining their poor lives.**

**Anyways, reading reviews gives me fuel to write so review your asses off my friends!**

**(Please :3)**


	8. Drumming

**Hi guys!**

**This chapter's probably pretty awkward, seeing as I wrote it whilst being sick... I hope that it makes sense. Tell me if it doesn't.**

**I'd like to remind everyone that you don't _have _to know the songs. In fact, it's awesome if you don't and decide to listen to them. Do any of you even listen to them? Ah well. As it turns out, I have fourty gigabytes of music. That's four thousand songs - should I make a chapter for each one?**

**No no I'm kidding. Anyways, this chapter's song is 'Drumming' by Florence + The Machine.**

**Have fun!**

**-M**

* * *

><p>He woke up to the sweet smell of frying dough and lemon scented shampoo, and his brain immediately registered several facts.<p>

One, his mother was making pancakes.

Two, they were most probably going to be blue.

Three, Annabeth used lemon scented shampoo, which he decided was almost if not equally as good as the smell of his mother's pancakes.

Four, he spent the whole night in bed with a beautiful girl. Granted, they did _nothing_ with this fact, but still. A bed was a bed, a girl was a girl, she was gorgeous and he had hormones.

His mother was _really_ going to lay it on him when Annabeth's gone.

He sat up and stretched, careful not to wake his _girlfriend _up. He almost laughed at the thought. Annabeth Chase is his _girlfriend. _

It was like kindergarten all over again. Except in kindergarten, there wasn't a hierarchy system that made sure that a princess - no, a _queen_ - wouldn't date a measly, scrawny village boy. In fact, the longer he looked at her, the more he wondered - why him? He wasn't exactly the epitome of 'good looking' (or anywhere near it for that matter), and had yet to fill into his six foot long body. Sure he was good at math, and adored all sciences, but he wasn't exactly smart. Nor was he witty, or funny, or a good conversationalist. So _why_?

She must've thought that he was honest. She must've thought that after years of lies and pretense and being utterly _fake _she needed something real and that that something was him.

His throat closed up as he looked at her sleeping form, envious of the innocence and ignorance it held. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave and he could feel himself suffocating from it.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. In fact, he knew it was a bad idea, but he just couldn't let someone like her go. Which lead him to wonder;

What did _he _see in _her_?

It hit him that he must've liked her along. He'd always notice her down the halls, quietly watch her blond curls sway as she walked, chin up, a determined gleam in her eyes. To some extent, he'd hoped that by getting good grades he'd get her to notice him. It was such a middle-schooler thing to think, he almost wanted to punch himself. He was scared of her, sure, but he was indeed a masochist.

Which probably explained why, despite the three thousand tons of guilt weighing on his shoulders, he just couldn't _not_ kiss her back.

He threw his head back with a groan and let his head fall back onto the pillows. He could feel her stir next to him, and prayed that he didn't have dried spit around his mouth. He was aware that he was a drooler, but he didn't want _her _to be aware of that yet. He didn't know how to greet a girl after slumber, so he just decided to do what every Ryan Gosling and Zac Efron did in those stupid chick flicks he watched with his mother.

"Percy?"

"Morning, beautiful."

"Was that supposed to be your sad ass attempt at being romantic?"

"...I won't do it again."

"You better not, cause it's fucking weird."

He pouted and she responded with this laugh that could only be compared to a cup of good coffee - something that warmed his body all over and made him feel awake and _alive_.

Except he never really had the urge to kiss a cup of coffee. But he figured that kissing her was a very good way of saying good morning, and scolded him for not thinking of it earlier. He could fell her fingers slip under his shirt and rest on his waist, and after a bit of fumbling, he did the same. He could feel her content smile through the kiss, which he was relieved for, because he felt like a ship wreck.

Everything was swell until there was a knock on the door from none other than his mother.

"Percy? You up?"

Shocked, he rolled off of the bed with a heavy thump, jumping back up almost immediately and running for the door. He opened it halfway, trying to cover up the view of his bed, and hugged his mother with one arm, greeting her good morning. When he let go, he saw her smirking up at him, the gleam in her eyes practically singing 'I knew it'. His face felt like it'd been deep fried.

"Well, breakfast is ready, so go ask your girlfriend how she likes her coffee," she said, giving him a wink before heading back to the kitchen.

"She's not my - well, uh, I mean - _Mom!_"

"Just go ask her, Percy!"

Percy stepped back into the room with a groan and saw Annabeth sitting at the edge of the bed, biting back a grin. Her clothes were a disheveled mess, and her blond curls were messy, with several locks falling onto her face.

"We _didn't_ have sex, right?"

She gave him a look.

"I think I'd remember if we did."

"Okay, good." Then; "You'd remember it for being good or terrible?"

"I don't fucking know, we haven't _had _it yet! Besides, I'm pretty sure you're still a virgin."

"Am not-"

"Really."

"...Okay, but don't laugh."

"It's okay, so am I."

"Oh."

Somehow, that surprised him. He'd thought that Luke would've jumped her the second he had the chance. Maybe that guy has more self control than he thought.

(Or not. Maybe Annabeth beat him up whenever he tried. He could see her doing that.)

"Anyways, I like my coffee black, no sugar. Preferably Italian roast. South African roast is also pretty good."

"...Is Nescafe instant coffee anywhere on that list?"

"Sure. Whatever."

"Cool. So. Breakfast?"

"Do you treat all your conquests like this in the morning?"

"What - _conquests?_ What is this, Cruel Intentions?"

"_Cruel Intentions?_ The movie with the hormone driven teens who only ever want to fuck or kill? _Really_? You watch that shit?"

"I live with my _mom_."

"...Whatever. Breakfast."

She got up and pushed him through the door and he thought that it was so _Annabeth _to be bossy and sarcastic and snippy in the mornings, all the while being so... _fluffy_.

When his mother saw Annabeth in her current state, her eyes grew to saucepans, before narrowing down on him. He held his hands up, trying to say 'I did nothing', but his mother switched her glare for a glowing grin, arms open to hug his hot mess of a girlfriend. (Was she his girlfriend? He asked her out, so she was, right? Right?)

"Good morning Annabeth! Did you sleep well?"

"I slept great, Miss Jackson, thank you."

"Sweetheart, no, I told you, please call me Sally."

"Sorry, Sally. I'm really sorry for the trouble I've caused for you and your son - I didn't mean to, uh..."

"It's fine, sweetheart. You don't need to apologize for _feeling_. You should've seen me when Percy was hospitalized. I was running around the house decorating and bawling my eyes out the whole time. I don't know how I managed to see anything at all!"

Annabeth laughed and sat at the table. He could tell she was nervous - she probably just realized the extent of how (mind his French) _fricked-up_ she looked. (Literally.) (He needed to stop.)

Despite her nervousness, she got along _extremely_ well with his mother. He didn't think anybody could get his mom talking like Annabeth did and he figured that Annabeth was a better listener than she seemed. He could imagine the two of them ten, fifteen, twenty years form now - his mother's dark waves dipped in shades of grey, the already existing worry lines growing deeper, but her eyes as warm and lively as they always were. And Annabeth - Annabeth would be seated in a pale blue blazer that brought out her eyes, her curls loose, eyes tired but content because she head two children and -

_No_, he scolded, shaking his head. _It's way, way too early to even be thinking of that. Besides, once Annabeth finds out what you've done, she'll never want to see you again. Hell, she'll probably want you dead!_

He ignored his raging thoughts and focused on the conversation in front of him, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

* * *

><p>A part of her just wanted to marry the boy and get it over with.<p>

Good boy with a good personality, a bright smile, infinitely green eyes and _dimples_ (of fuck, she never even knew she had a thing for those) and come _on_ his mother was not only a good cook and but she was type of person who could replace Ellen and nobody would mind. Having them as her _family _sounded amazing.

"BUT IT'S ONLY BEEN A WEEK SINCE WE FIRST _TALKED_."

Her face was pressed against the pillow as she lay on her bed, Florence and the Machine playing at full volume from the speakers. She figured that was the only way to explain her feelings - through decorative indie music with way too many metaphors that one could only really understand when in love.

Ever since she left Percy's apartment, her lips lingered from his kiss and she was drunk off of how strangely attractive he looked in that sweater and _messy hair _and how she knew him for less than three days, because all of those days she spent with him in his hospital room were not really spent with him but with his fucking heart monitor. She knew nothing about the guy. _Nothing._

She regretted not taking Percy up on his offer to drive her home. She had so many questions she wanted to ask, so many discussions she wanted to start. But she brought her car to the apartment block, so she couldn't just leave it there. This was Palo Alto for fuck's sake, the car would fry if it was out there on the guest parking for so long.

She didn't even know his phone number. No e-mail, no number, and she already checked for his nonexistent Facebook page. Seriously, it's the twenty-first century, _open up a Facebook page_.

No way to contact him, except through his mother, and she was pretty sure that if Sally found out that her son hadn't provided her with his number, he'd be dead. They just started dating. It was too early for him to be dead.

She had so so so many questions. She wanted to know what he listened to apart from bad pop music or what he liked to read or if he even liked to read at all and why he got so nervous in class that day that he had to _run out_ and leave all of his stuff and why acted so dumb all of the time despite his almost flawless grades. Why? _Why_? What was he so afraid of that he had to hide how much he loved science and how fucking _good _he was at it?

Her mind drifted to the conversations she'd have with Luke after she'd turn down his cherry popping offer. She remembered his mentioning Percy in a few of them, but from what she knew, Percy was just another one of Luke's targets. She remembered him mentioning that he was "best friends with the little shit". She didn't care too much about it at the time, since her 'depression' had caused her to be extremely blasé, but now she wondered - what happened between them that caused Percy to go from being a friend to nothing more than a punching bag? And now that Luke and Annabeth had their official and very public break up (there was nothing dirty or horrible in it; it seemed pretty mutual) and Luke had decided he'd rather fuck her "hot best friend", she hoped that he'd leave Percy alone.

And the biggest question of all was, of course, what would they do in school?

After spending so long building the perfect reputation, she didn't know how to just _destroy _it. She wanted to keep it there and for it to be diamond hard but that would mean molding Percy into a perfect diamond and she knew that there was no way that would be possible. A part of her hoped that her popularity would let her get away with it, that people would be shocked but do the whole 'she's _her _so she can do whatever she wants and _still _be fabulous' act like they do whenever a celebrity dates someone who's not in their league. (Although she thought he was _definitely _in her league, he wouldn't be according to social standards.)

But then Percy would be treated as nothing more than a charity case - "She's just doing it because she feels bad for your kind."

(She's heard that enough times before. She couldn't imagine it happening to him.)

She hated how much control people's words had over her. She wished that she was nameless, that she couldn't be pinned down by one expectation. Everything would be so much easier if only she was one of _them_. But she can't just become one of them anymore. She's Queen Annabeth Chase; cocky, perfect Annabeth Chase.

Her mother used to say that there are two ways to gain respect in this world; be loved by few, or be feared by many.

Annabeth wanted respect from many, if not _all_. So, being the greedy child she was, she took the second option and chose to live with the consequences.

And now that the consequences hit her - in the mouth, very softly - she didn't know what to do. So she just fell into a deep sleep, listening to the drumming of her heartbeat at the thought of that consequence.

She could only hope for things to work out.

* * *

><p><strong>WHAT DID PERCY DO?! WHAT WILL ANNABETH DO?! Hahahaha cliffhangers. Nothing will ever get resolved at this rate. I apologize for my writing - because I enjoy going in-depth with characters, it takes me forever to go through a single day in the story. Eight chapters, and they <em>still <em>haven't gone back to school. Ugh.**

**What do you guys think will happen? Hehehehe**

**I just came up with the plot whilst writing this chapter so hang on tight because there is more pain to come! :D**


	9. Pull Me Down

**I'M BACK.**

**WITH A NEW CHAPTER. **

**Please don't kill me. I'm so sorry to all of those who actually tried to keep up with the story. This may seem like a pretty useless chapter, but I think it's pretty significant. **

**Anyways, this chapter's song is _Pull Me Down _by Mikky Ekko. Not necessarily a truly relevant song, but the title fits and I'm introducing y'all to new music. **

**Enjoy!**

**-M**

* * *

><p>The surface of the water shone, a palette of blue and green and silver strips spiraling in and out of each other in an attempt to recreate a Van Gogh painting.<p>

Watching the events unfold above him, Percy Jackson floated aimlessly beneath the surface, his palms up in hopes of grasping the rays of sunlight dripping through the waves. He'd been there for what seemed like hours, although it could have easily been just a few minutes.

He took a deep breath in hopes of breaking the dream with the science of reality, but when he felt air seep into his lungs, everything went black.

That's when the cacophony began.

Banging, crashing, screaming and screeching, he blinked back tears, trying to get rid of the explosion of reds and golds in his peripheral vision. There wasn't much to see in all of the darkness, but whatever he did see appeared in doubles. He tried to curl his fingers into a fist, but instead felt them tighten around something round and leather.

_A steering wheel?_

He could feel his body swinging from left to right whenever he'd try to move his hands. For some reason he couldn't let go. Panic began to settle in; for the first time that night, it wasn't the fermented grains talking. His mouth opened in a silent scream before hearing the clash of metal on metal.

The last thing he remembered before waking up, drenched in sweat, at four in the morning, was a flash of cold grey.

He sighed, whole body trembling as he placed his head into his hands.

He didn't know how long he'd be able to last like this.

* * *

><p>Annabeth Chase was never a morning person. She liked to associate herself with owls, the beautiful, intelligent creatures of the nigh.<p>

So when she was awoken by a knock on her bedroom door at eighteen past five, she was ready to attack whichever ass-hole that decided to do so. Of course when she found out that the ass-hole was actually a certain green eyed boy with furrowed brows and a lip between his teeth, she only gaped.

"Good morning, Annabeth," he said, attempting to sound cheery. She narrowed her eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

"I brought waffles -"

_"What are you doing here?"_

He sucked in a sharp breath and chewed on his lip before meekly responding with "I couldn't sleep."

She just continued to look at him incredulously.

"So you came to my house at five o'clock in the fucking morning."

"Well I assumed that since you always get to school so early, you'd be awake-"

"How did you even get in?"

"Your, uh, butler let me in?"

She groaned, but immediately succumbed to guilt when she noticed him looking at his feet, his ears beetroot red. With a small smile, she pulled him into a hug.

"Sorry. Don't like waking up early," she whispered as he adjusted his head so that his lips were pressed to he neck.

"'S fine," he mumbled into her skin. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"Mhm."

"And you're still in your jammies."

"I just got out of bed, you dweeb."

"Sorry."

"Shut up. Now get off of me so that I can take a shower and change."

Percy visibly cringed, but followed her instruction anyway. "I'll be in the, uh, kitchen. Preparing the waffles."

"Okay."

"As in warming them and putting them on plates and stuff."

"Right."

"I'll make you a cup of coffee."

"Thanks. And remember -"

"No sugar, no milk, South African roast. See, I remembered it," he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. She tried her best to look unimpressed, but she could feel a smile trying to break out.

"Italian. It was Italian roast."

"Oh. Right."

She snickered before turning on her heel and leaving him on his own at her house.

* * *

><p>An hour and twenty three minutes later, Annabeth was seated next to him in his car, tucking a lock of flaxen hair behind her ear before shoving the seat belt buckle into its rightful place. Upon giving her a once over, he decided that he still couldn't understand why someone like <em>her<em> would ever like someone like _him_. With her monochrome printed dress, knee high grey socks and combat boots, she looked as close to perfect as anyone ever could. He chastised himself for not being able to appreciate her beauty at an earlier stage in his life.

Breakfast was pretty uneventful - they spent majority of their time getting to know Meredith, a plump and cheery maid who helped him _not_ mess up their breakfast by teaching him how to use their fancy microwave and coffee machine. But now, they were in the car. And it's only a twenty minute drive to school. And panic was settling in his veins.

"Percy -"

"School."

"Yeah, and if we want to get there by my preferred time, which is to say, seven o'clock, we'd better get moving."

Biting his lip, Percy moved the car out of the drive-way and onto the road. As he drove, his fingered tapped against the steering wheel nervously. He tried to push back thoughts of the dream. _Oh dear __ADHD, just this once, please let me concentrate on just one thing?_

"Annabeth, we need to talk."

Out of the corner of her eye, he could see her stiffen. She cleared her throat. "About?"

He swallowed hard. "Us."

She licked her lips. "What about us?"

He decided to stop beating around the bush. "What are we going to do at school? As in, how are we supposed to act around each other?"

"Well for one, I'm already going to be arriving in your car. Drew will notice that I didn't come in my car, and since I didn't go to school with her, she'll probably start questioning me about it anyway."

"Your parents could have dropped you off."

"My dad's- They're in New York."

"Okay, but you could tell her that you came in a taxi."

"She'd ask me why I didn't call her."

"You could say that you thought she was coming with Luke-"

"Do you not want people to know about us?"

Percy frowned. He assumed that she did have the right to ask that, since he's been trying to come up with different excuses as to how she got to school which _didn't _ include him. He sighed.

"Look, Annabeth, it's not that I don't want people to know. Of course I want people to know - I want to be able to hug you, or at least freaking _talk _to you in public, but I want you to remember who we are at this school. And as much as I don't believe in this whole social hierarchy thing, I know how hard you've worked on getting to where you are, and how much it would effect you if you had to just _drop_ all of it."

Annabeth stayed silent for a while after that comment. He contemplated putting on the radio, but he figured that it would only make him more nervous and fidgety. To be honest, he was worried that she'd just say that this whole relationship was a practical joke and that she would simply return to Luke and her position as queen.

"-one."

Percy's brows furrowed.

"Sorry, what?"

"I'm done, Percy. I'm done with this whole hierarchy bullshit. You're right, I did spend my whole life trying to come out on top, and I'm one of the few who can say that they really did it. But do you know why I did it?"

Percy sucked in a breath, eyes on the road. "Respect?"

"Exactly. And in my mind, that respect means that I should be able to do what I want, whenever I want, simply because I'm _me._"

Percy smirked. "Well-"

"Shut up, I know that sounded arrogant. What I mean is that I've worked really hard to be who I am. I can't be perfect, and I know I'm not, but I've done everything necessary to make society think I'm perfect. For everything that I've done, don't I deserve a break? Don't I deserve to be happy, even if that happiness can only be achieved by bending the rules?"

He snorted. "Am I a broken rule?"

"Well, you're unpopular, intelligent but not, uhm, _physically talented_, and you're net exactly what society considers good looking. You break society's standards of a person who should' be with me."

He winced. "Ouch. My own girlfriend."

"Shut the fuck up, Jackson. For the record, I think you're plenty good looking and talented, and society would too, if it just got its head out of its ass."

"...I, uh, well, thanks. But I don't think it's society that's the problem."

She nodded. "True. You're also too naïve for the modern world."

"As in?"

"You're honest and open-minded and hopeful. You're happy with yourself as you are and you don't try to become somebody else just to fit in. You're the kind of person who doesn't pretend to be interested in a topic that you know barely anything about just to impress somebody."

He was dumbfounded. He opened and closed his mouth several times before letting silence wash over them.

"...You know nothing about me."

"Maybe so. But I like what I know, and I'd like to learn more."

He might have smiled, even if his gut was ripping itself apart inside. "So, what's the verdict?"

"We're telling them."

"...Are you sure?"

She punched him in the shoulder, laughing at his insecurity, and practically shouted "YES JACKSON, I'M DAMN SURE."

* * *

><p>She knew she wouldn't regret her decision.<p>

* * *

><p>He knew she would.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Just in case you guys didn't notice, every line break signifies a change in perspective. It won't always be clear who's perspective it'll be.<strong>

**Once again, I apologize for not writing in such a long time, and for the quality of the chapter. I didn't get to review it... **

**I'll try to update a little more regularly, as in, at least every month, but I can't promise anything...**

**I've been told that my title and my description aren't very eye-catching, and although I can't change the title (it's very relevant to the whole story, since it's literally about how people talk; how they talk behind your back, how their words have double meanings, how everybody has a distinct way of expressing themselves and whatnot) I can try to improve the description. Any ideas? Send me a PM. **

**This kind of story is very difficult to write because it requires a lot of self-reflection on my part.**

**Thank you for reading! Don't forget to tell me what you think :)**


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